violent delights

to return with the golden fleece

[gvldenfleece]

michal

it was impossible to ignore the flyers posted around the university. with each new instance of one being hung some place, michal grew more and more annoyed and upset. who thought it was appropriate to post these, when there was no proof that what they were saying was the truth? and why were people assuming it was the truth? the minute she saw the volume of posters hung everywhere was the minute she decided to lock herself in her room for the day.

a couple people had reached out, asked her how she was doing, and her mom had sent her an obligatory parental “i don’t want to take time out of my day but people think your roommate is dead so i’m ‘thinking of you’” text, but michal ignored most of it. so, when someone knocked on her do she assumed it must have been a familiar face, someone who had noticed that she had not respond to their message. and so, she opened it easily, ready to welcome in miles or mav or something.

and then, there he was, dick, one of the last people she had expected to see.

“hi,” she said, a look of confusion on her face.

going to michal’s side was dick’s panic route. it had been melanie for a while, but she was obviously not there to console him. michal, however, had known him just as long, and knew more than enough to put a smile on his face. granted, they hadn’t spoken in months, but dick found himself in need of her company. their “clean” break-up seemed to follow them largely into college, as kissing at parties and spending the night together cuddling hadn’t been to uncommon their freshman year. but then dick had met melanie, and he had to finally restrict himself to finding time fo intimacy with the other girl. not even a day after melanie had terminated their relationship, however, michal had reached out for him--seemingly, like an invitation to pick up where they left off. but dick was broken. convinced that he didn’t need her or anyone. 

so there they were.

standing on two sides of michal’s doorway, both a little surprised to see each other. 

“sorry, i didn’t know where else to go.” and just like that, the sad truth came out. maybe they really would always wander back to each other. “can i come in?”

[lukearnold]

[tim-lucy]

[gvldenfleece]

                                               𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃!                          the braxton family welcomes you to their annual holiday party!

attire: black tie date: december 24, 2019, 7pm-1am

[gvldenfleece]

𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: austin braxton ( @brickyellow​ ) & maverick braxton ( @flightsrsk​​ ) 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩: the braxtons’ dick’s secret library 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚: nine pm

“alright, miscreants! i have successfully acquired two whole bottles of champagne. the party is on!” dick declared, thrusting both his fists into the air in triumph. the annual braxton holiday party had commenced approximately two hours ago, and the air was already thick with old money and even older tensions. the ancient crowd was some sort of viscous substance, and trying to part it to move from one room to the next was absolutely hopeless. but as the eldest braxton, richard took his job entirely seriously--he had to somehow secure the alcohol while simultaneously diverting the attention of various name-droppers and moneybags with charming small talk and dashing good looks. it wasn’t a foreign task at all; dick knew his way around words, and he more than knew how to distract middle-aged ladies with charisma.   

the braxton trio were in lesser spirits than previous years, as a result of melanie’s disappearance and supposed death. she had meant something to each of them, even if it was in different ways. so the need for better spirits was easily fulfilled by the two bottles of bubbly. “i did, however, get a little felt up by mrs. rice in the process. but what’s new?”

[gvldenfleece]

imessage to: cordelia

dick: art thou awake?

[gvldenfleece]

victoria

date & location: december 17th, late at night in the forensics house.  status: closed to @gvldenfleece​

There were more than a few predicaments Victoria had been sure she’d never find herself in. Dancing alone in the communal kitchen in the middle of the night, humming a tune off-key, in nothing but an oversized Covington debate t-shirt and high socks, holding a plastic spatula she was using to cook up some midnight scrambled eggs was one of them. As the icing on top of the cake, she was now facing down her housemate standing the doorway. Some fucking day. 

Normally, she’d manage a witty remark to Dick, something to fire up a banter-turned-insightful-discussion between them. Now, though, between her exhaustion and stress, her mind was far from a place of craving an intellectual argument. Instead, all she could think about was how another goddamn Braxton had now seen her in her underwear. 

(It was better than thinking about Melanie, at least). 

“D’you want an egg or…?” Was all she had to say instead, her voice sounding as strained as she felt. She couldn’t even muster the energy to finish her thought. Or are you going to stand there like a dumbass? Though, Victoria assumed Dick got the implied message.  

victoria looked like a fairy. that was all dick could think about as he stood blankly in the doorway of the kitchen, without the slightest memory of why he had entered the room in the first place. if she was a very, he knew that she would be titania, the queen of all other fairies--it was only fitting. victoria could dance around in her underwear all she wanted, but she could still look like the future president of the united states. it was a serious feat. dick admired her in every sense of the word. 

it took a moment for him to get unstuck when she finally noticed he was there. he shook his head like a dog, waking from his daze. “no, thank you. i just came down for some water.” dick’s words trailed away as her reached for a glass from the overhead cabinet. his hand had randomly selected a ceramic mug donning the emblem of the debate team. “by the way, excellent form.” he teased, his back turned to the girl. although he couldn’t see her, he knew she was probably turning red. or rolling her eyes. dick nudged the handle on the sink to the right until water began to rush into the mug. “so, at what point did you choose debate over dance?”

[gvldenfleece]

@ofreligion​

the apparent confirmation of melanie rivera’s death reminded dick that life was fragile. it was a meek little thing, so easily cast aside. and it was everywhere, as the posters of her obituary were plastered all over the university like a sick advertisement. he hated not being able to go anywhere without having to stop and stare at the once - adorable picture of his former girlfriend and her cat. it left his stomach in knots every time--melanie rivera was seemingly dead. gone forever, without so much as a goodbye. dick had his fair share of ex partners, but it was weird to think that one of them was no longer with the rest.

he found himself texting michal. it was unspoken, but they had the sort of connection that could carry him through a difficult time like this. only, the last time they had truly spoken had concluded with him telling her to fuck off, for his heart had just been shattered by melanie. he knew she would meet him nonetheless. she had a heart of gold, and even though she could be stubborn, he knew she cared. that was her fatal flaw. he loitered outside of her door for a few minutes, unsure of what he was going to say. he didn’t know. he just needed a hug, honestly. dick quietly rapped his knuckles against the wood. “michal? it’s me.”

[gvldenfleece]

cordelia

a few weeks ago, cordelia had been thrilled to receive confirmation from their director that they’d be holding auditions for TWELFTH NIGHT when they returned from break. it had always been one of her favorites, her own copy of the play full of dog-eared pages & underlined quotes & notes crowded in the margins. the idea of GREATNESS — the idea that she could achieve it or have it thrust upon her, one day — was one she spent countless hours dwelling upon. now, as she sprawled herself out on her bedroom floor, she was unable to make it past act ii, scene v. be not afraid of greatness… she wasn’t, not now, but that was because there seemed to be something far more SINISTER for all of them to fear. 

dick’s voice shook her from her long-winded inner monologue, lowering her book a fraction to peer up at him from where she lay on the carpet — eyes narrowed, lips pursed a fraction. of course, of all the people who resided in the forensics house, dick would be one of the melancholy few to be trapped within its walls when they BOTH should have been going home. “good morning to you, mr. braxton,” cordy replied slowly, carefully, give him a cautious once over as he strode into her room. “is this supposed to be a good-will gesture or some plot you’re trying to ensnare me in? time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides.” with that, she threw out her arm to pat the space on her carpet a few feet away from where she was positioned, silently offering it up to dick as a seat. she DID love raisin bran, after all. “i trust you’ve already heard that what play we’re doing when we come back from break. i’d hate to be the bearer of bad news, what with you working so hard on that romeo monologue. maybe you can be MALVOLIO, instead.” 

a look of surprised splashed across dick’s face at her offer to let him sit adjacent to her on the carpet. it had been at least three years since he had been invited into the sacred space that was cordelia underhill’s bedroom. and back then, they had been more than friendly. it was single-handedly the worst decision either of them could have made at the time. in fact, dick pondered on several occasions that if he had the power to travel back in time, he would warn his past-self not to sleep with the girl. ever since that fated night, he had been convinced that cordelia held some sort of inner fondness for him, perhaps something closer to blind infatuation. but part of that claim was merely created just to get a rise out of her. they were courteous rivals, sugar coating insults with the words of shakespeare and solemn smiles. “no diabolical scheme. just a peace offering.” for what he was offering peace, he could not explain.

“nothing that can be can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes.” he recited, arching an eyebrow as if he knew simply how good he was. “i’m already preparing for auditions. besides, the romeo monologue was for a class. they wouldn’t stage another production of fair verona for at least another year.” he brushed off her jab, passing the full box of raisin bran to her side of the carpet. “is next semester finally going to be your shimmy into the spotlight? you’d make a wonderful viola. mannish features, and such.” dick chimed curtly. a smile made its away across his lips, translating the devilish pleasure he got from getting under cordelia’s skin. they had known each other for a very long time, and had seen both plenty of ups and downs, but the pair had settled into a rivalry like it was a second nature.

[gvldenfleece]

darcy

peace and quiet. that was all darcy asked for in this mortal life; yet, time and time again, she was denied the very thing she craved the most. whether it be her blended family waxing poetic about melanie’s greatest hits or the general student population taking too long to move out of her way, darcy’s life was very hard. enter stage left: dick braxton, as much a thorn in her side as all melanie-related concepts seemed to be. 

“ oh, shut the fuck up, billy shakes. don’t you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice ?” darcy lamented. she was flipping idly through OK! magazine; compared to dick’s beloved playwright, her choice of literature ( in the loosest sense of the word ) was practically blasphemous. “ careful, if you keep bothering me, i’m gonna go say macbeth in your precious theater. that’s the thing that makes y’all quake in your boots, right ? ” she flipped another page, sighing as she closed the magazine completely. “ i can’t even enjoy OK! with your beady eyes staring at me. what do you want ? ”

dick almost felt sorry for darcy. it seemed like no matter what she did, who she was with, or where she was, she always had a stick up her ass. he could get down on both knees and call her beautiful a thousand times and she would still have a sour look on her face. his draw towards dramatics only worked against him in situations like this. dick could still remember awkward meals at the kovac-rivera dinner table, as he tried to make sure that darcy didn’t accidentally stab him in the eye with her fork while he wasn’t looking.

“clearly, no. people love the sound of my voice, so much so that it sells out whole theaters.” he boasted apathetically, leaning forward in his seat. “ah, yes, the scottish play. i’m amazed you know of its curse. you’ve been doing your research.” he replied, smiling sweetly at the girl. the most annoying thing about talking to dick was that nothing fazed him. “just some company, honestly. the ghosts in the theater just aren’t cutting it as of late. and i enjoy your sick sense of humor, if we’re being honest.”

[favzicons]

icons nicholas galitzine

• like if you save

[gvldenfleece]

SHIP AESTHETIC / DICK & MICHAL

you never forget your first love, especially when you accidentally make out with her at a few parties / @ofreligion

[gvldenfleece]

@ofconstellctions​

the forensics house was eerily silent, ridden of most of its tenants. dick found solace in his usual pockets of quiet throughout the building. the bay window on the ground floor. underneath the skylights in the second floor bathroom. that was the only fragment of normalcy around covington university. that, and the blind hatred cordelia underhill felt toward him. and sure, maybe he only fueled the dislike by acting like a pretentious asshole around her, but it was kind of fun to watch her heat up. almost as large as the thrill he found from listening to his own voice echo throughout the violet carter theater. of course, cordelia would be standing five yards to the left of him, glaring from the safety of the stage’s curtains. 

cordelia’s bedroom door was conveniently cracked wide open. dick had abandoned his spot by the bay window bench to grab a box of raisin bran from the pantry--something he only did when he was either crazy bored or crazy worried. and he was a bit of both. after acquiring the goods, dick found himself gravitate towards the open door, and eventually, into it. “good morning, miss underhill.” he greeted, his deep voice filling the room. “and before you bite our thumb at me, i brought you some cereal.” dick extended the hand wrapped around the box to the girl, shaking the box gently.

[gvldenfleece]

@brcknboy​

dick lay sprawled across one of the dusty, faded couches in the library, his eyes scanning the blurry front page of the hemlock tribune. in big, bold letters, a single fact haunted him: melanie rivera declared missing. the empty covington campus felt more like an empty skeleton than anything--he just wanted to go home. and home wasn’t even happy. but part of his home was found in the lanky, pale boy occupying the space next to him on the couch--miles beaumont. dick kicked his legs up and onto the arm of the sofa, his brown oxfords dangling on the other side. he carefully placed his head on the other boy’s lap, a wisp of dark hair dangling obnoxiously over his field of vision.

“i wish we could just get out of here.” he mumbled, peering up at miles’ face inconspicuously. “and i wish they would just tell us why they kept us here.” even though he had a sneak suspicion as to why, dick didn’t want to believe it. that one of them was responsible for it all.

[flightsrsk]

@gvldenfleece​ !

[jessicahenwicks-deactivated2018]

[rumorwalsh]

@gvldenfleece

[gvldenfleece]

maverick‌

𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣 ft. @gvldenfleece !

                    INCESSANT CALLS HAD DRAINED MAVERICK’S phone battery. he didn’t exactly feel like talking, anyway—especially not after he’d done a mental roll call on the other students who were forced to stick around. even worse, the crowd he would rely on to blend into was now gone. he felt naked, under the MICROSCOPE again. he should have been used to it by now, given his parents’ pressures, even if he didn’t have anything to hide, he still felt his heart sink deep into his chest.

maverick is reluctant to reach out to his siblings—as per usual. a strained relationship with his own last name causes the middle braxton to distance himself where he can, but he’s found gravitating toward his brother in the dining hall anyway. it’s a damned talent, dick has. it’s another thing he could choose to hate his brother for, yet resentment isn’t quite the word. “ you hear from mom and dad yet? ” he asks simply. 

dick couldn’t bear staying in the forensics house for more than an hour or so. every time he sat down at the foot of his bed, memories of lying there with melanie flooded into his brain, making it impossible to sit there peacefully. he had tried migrating to the theater, with the hope memorizing a soliloquy from hamlet would force him to forget about his own conscious, but instead, it just plagued him with the thought of death. why, the theater department hadn’t picked a comedy this year, dick couldn’t answer. he would have preferred that to a tragedy, which covington already had plenty of.

he was lifelessly poking at the brussel sprouts clustered on his plate when maverick approached him. these days, there was a fifty-fifty chance of a conversation between them ending in a heated argument. dick didn’t know if he had emotional space for that, with everything else going on. “no. they probably haven’t seen our messages yet. i think they’re in manhattan for a show today.” he answered, peeling his gaze away from the overcooked greens in front of him. “do you think they’ll be upset that we’re stuck here?” he asked, already knowing the answer.